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“We have to be prepared for anything,” Zachary stood beside the water cooler, monitoring the presentation. “There’s a possibility that this is an intentional trap. Or they’re already ready to go at a moment’s notice, waiting for us to show ourselves before escaping the area. It could even be a challenge.”
Atlas nodded again. “That’s why it’s essential that we do this carefully.”
Around the structure, Colt had constructed an approximation of the neighboring area. It had been tedious, but he had managed to interpret a lot of it by looking at satellite views taken of the area. The region was sparsely populated, but there were still neighboring houses and a factory that made aircraft parts.
He retrieved a bucket of toy soldiers, which he had kept from his own childhood in the hope of giving it to his own son someday. “And as you can see,” Colt chimed in, “this area might seem to be vacant, but houses and buildings are all around, any of which might contain innocent civilians.”
“And what do we do about that?” Atlas asked rhetorically.
“We evacuate,” Colt answered.
“We need a team of people making sure that all of the residential houses and neighboring buildings are cleared, by almost any means necessary,” Atlas clarified.
Atlas could always tell when Colt struggled, and Colt was grateful when he stepped in. He had tasked Colt with preparing this presentation. Colt didn’t feel like what he had put together was very professional, but it was what he could do with what he had.
“Again,” Zachary said, mostly addressing his team. “Time is crucial. They could leave as early as first light tomorrow morning, maybe sooner.”
“We’ll be heading out very soon,” Colt reassured him. “Nobody’s more aware of the importance of this mission than us.”
“But first, we assign teams,” Atlas said. “Who’s working clearance?”
A handful of hands rose, mostly those who looked like they could move more quickly and had more muscle tone than mass.
“Our current explanation for the evacuation, as we envision it, is that dangerous fugitives are moving through town,” Atlas explained. “We don’t say anything about shifters, or wolves. All we tell them to do is clear the area. Any inconsistencies in the story might cause snags for this, and if that happens, people might die.”
“And while one team works clearance, we need another team working infiltration,” Colt said.
Colt moved the army men, which had earlier represented civilians, toward the central building where Harlow’s figurine was being held. The context had changed. He lined the army men around the building in a circle.
“It’s imperative that nobody moves to breach until the other team has already evacuated,” Atlas said. “Zachary, Colt, and I will lead the charge to save Harlow. Nobody budges until we do.”
* * *
A crisp fog hung over the town, impairing visibility. To avoid alerting the Hollow Grove pack, both teams used unmarked junk cars, cramming four or five people into every car. They also made sure to avoid the main roads, only approaching through a series of side roads. Cars were also staggered to ensure that at no point did their formations look like a caravan.
Colt could sense Atlas’s anxiety, trying to appear strong and confident to offset it. Zachary, Colt, and Atlas shared a car, a small 1982 Gremlin that the pack had saved from salvage and reconstructed three years back.
According to their earlier intel, Harlow was still being held about seven blocks away.
“I think this is gonna go good, guys,” Zachary said, attempting to breach the silence and offer reassurance.
“Definitely,” Colt said, offering fake enthusiasm. Colt actually had no idea what was going to happen. It seemed like Gravecrest had the advantage of strategy, but from what he’d seen of Hollow Grove, they were often erratic and unpredictable. This could easily spell casualties on both sides.
What’s more, Gravecrest had never dealt with a confrontation like this. Both it and Forest Crest tried to avoid problems with other packs as much as possible. They weren’t pacifists, but they definitely weren’t warmongers.
Colt could finally see headlights leaving the area, other vehicles following closely in tow. Evacuees would be moved to LaMar’s, the grocery store on the opposite edge of town. Colt had given his city key to one of the team leaders, assuring her that she would be able to open the building with it.
After about thirty minutes, Colt’s and Atlas’s phones buzzed, both receiving a text message with an ice cream emoji. The evacuation had been successful, and much sooner than anticipated.
“We’re good to go,” Atlas told Colt and Zachary, both of them nodding. In response, Atlas sent the agreed signal that it was time to advance, however slowly.
To not draw attention to themselves, the team had agreed that they would drive without headlights, parking at the factory about a block away. Each vehicle would move one by one. Each was given a chain order number. As soon as the first vehicle had arrived at the factory, somebody in that car would send an emoji to somebody in the second vehicle, and so on, until everybody had arrived.
As soon as they reached the back of the structure—a series of wooden pillars, girders, and unfinished walls—the pack was met with immediate gunfire.
“Stay low to the ground and crawl!” Atlas yelled.
Colt’s heart raced. How could they not have planned for this?
